Can I Go Now?
by UnknownTragedy
Summary: "I'm the reason my parents where killed," Harry mumbled, not looking at Snape. "Then you'd better make damn sure their deaths weren't in vain, you got it?" Snape said crisply. "They died to protect you and I'm not going to let The Boy Who Lived To Be A Pain In My Arse - and I say that as affectionately as I can - go back to the hellhole of abuse."


**Can I Go Now?**

Harry grumbled profanities under his breath as he scrubbed the dirty cauldron. Did Goyle just drop in any ingredient he could find? From the moldy crust that was completely glued to the inside of the Potions material like an extremely stubborn crust, yes, yes he did. Git.

"Put some elbow grease in it, Potter," said Snape lazily. Oh, he must be so smug, so proud of himself for putting James Potter's son in detention.

He ignored the sneering potions professor and continued trying to get the grease off the cauldrons. When he was finished, he went to leave without noticing his glamours were down, e exposing his abused flesh.

Severus Snape gasped inwardly, his rugged breath foreign to his own ears.

"Boy!" he said sharply. Harry turned to glare openly at the professor. "Who is it that gave you those wounds? Lie to me and wipe your schedule anew to clean cauldrons for another month.

"Wh-what?" Harry questioned, noticing the glamours were down he panicked. "No one, Sir! Quidditch accident, you see... A bluffer hit me..." He lied pathic hoping Snape would believe him.

"So a single Bludger was able to give you all hose bruises?" Snape drawled cynically. Harry swallowed nervously and nodded feverishly. "I don't buy it, Potter! Take a seat."

Harry hesitantly sat down in a desk not making eye contact with the potions professor, waiting for him to speak. Why did his glamours have to come down now of all times? What did it have tone in front of Snape?

Severus eyed the Potter spawn with cynical eyes. Glamour charms were a fickle thing - something he knew all too well - and men did not tend to use them unless they had to.

"So are you ready to tell me the truth yet? Or must we wait all night?" he drawled impatiently.

"I told you, sir," Harry said with a terrified look. "Quidditch accident!"

Severus leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes and placing his quill beside the stack of parchment. He started tapping his fingers on the side of his chair and biting the inside of his cheek.

"Say, Potter," snarled the gloomy professor finally, "how does one get so bruised up without Madam Pomfrey fretting over them for at least a week?"

"Why do you care?" Harry snapped glaring at the potions professor openly. "You never have before so just leave me alone." Harry stood up with the last bit of confidence he had and turned for the door.

"I don't know what makes you think I don't care," Severus reasoned gently, or as gently as a man of his status could conjure.

Harry stopped in his tracks and just stared at the man in front of him. "Seriously? You bully me on a daily bases! You have made it VERY clear that you don't give a fuck about me, Snape!"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't give a fuck about you, Mr. Potter, do you think I would make you sit down and tell me this sensitive information? If I didn't give a fuck about you, I would have let you walk out of here and have every single Hogwarts student pester you about this Quidditch accident that you and I both know didn't happen. Now tell me, Potter, before I resort to far worse interrogation methods: how did you get those injuries?"

"I-I-" Harry just stared at the professor, sitting back down in his seat. "I can't tell you..."

"And why not?" Severus insisted. "You seem very capable of speech at this moment."

Harry stayed quiet, not looking at his professor. He shook his head firmly. "It was two bludgers?"

Snape didn't voice his protests, instead opting to make himself more...approachable. He put his hands behind his head and tried to relax his stiff posture. He probably looked very stupid as he gestured for Potter to go on with his Quidditch accident cover story.

"Uh.. You see..." Harry started. "There was this big bludger... And uh... It don't like me... so it hit me... multiple times..."

"So you're saying that someone cursed the bludger to hit you?" Severus asked with a cocked eyebrow. Harry nodded feverishly. "Alright. Go on, then."

"Well not... cursed... per say..." Harry said, his eyes filling with tears. "The person... is... What I mean to say... Uh... muggle"

"Ah, so we're finally getting somewhere," Severus sighed contentedly. "Muggles are people, in fact, and people are far different from bludgers."

Harry nodded slowly. "I know, Sir."

"Oh, you know, do you?" said Snape. "Like I know that it was definitely not a bludger that did this to you?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and put his glamours back up. "Can I go now?"

Snape's usual scowl slid back on his face. "Did I not say that you couldn't leave until you told me where you got those bruises?"

Harry flinched. "I told you!"

"No," said the Potions master slowly, as if speaking with a child (well, in his defense, Harry was acting like one!), "you spouted lies about Quidditch that I know didn't happen."

"He hit me okay?" Harry screamed, standing up and losing his temper. "Now leave me alone!"

Snape's eyes flickered. "So now I know it was a male and a Muggle that has abused you." Harry flinched at his bluntness. "So now all I need is a name and you may leave, Harry.

"Who do you think?" Harry snapped. "My Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs!"

Snape rolled his eyes and drawled, "Do I look like the person of whom Professor Dumbledore would like to hand a check to for filling out hundreds of letters yearly? How was I supposed to know?"

Alright, so maybe he was a bit snappish, but this Potter spawn was just as thickheaded as his father was. Honestly.

"Whatever," Harry said with a sigh. "Can I go now?"

_'Potter is much too stubborn for his own good,'_ Snape thought with a scowl.

"Just give me the goddamned name and you can leave to go wherever the hell you like!" he said irritably.

"I told you goddamnit!" Harry said with a sigh. "Now I'm leaving!" Harry got up and left slamming the door behind him

Snape didn't move, instead contemplating recent events with a serious outlook. So Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived To Be A Pain In The Arse, was abused at home. And from the looks of it, rather brutally.

Something must be done.

* * *

Harry ran all the way to Gryffindor tower. What gave Snape the right to question him like that? He was always a git to him before. Before he knew it he had ran up to the fifth year boys dormitories and slammed the door so hard the Hufflepuffs must have heard him.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron called from his bed. "How'd detention go? Did Snape make you write lines or-?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Harry snapped, climbing in his bed and closing the curtains.

"You don't seem to wanna talk about much of anything nowadays," Ron mumbles, turning over so he wasn't looking at Harry.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled back punching the top of his bed. Why was he such a fuck up?

Catching Harry's tone in a way he didn't often, Ron frowned. "Is something wrong, Harry?"

"Snape's just such a dick," Harry said with a sigh. "What did you do all night?"

"Hermione kept bothering me about homework," Ron moaned the proceeding to break down exactly how 'bothersome' and 'nerdy' she was.

Harry laughed. "Maybe you should have just went and tried to kiss Patvati instead."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "Parvati's sweet and all, but you know that Seamus'll castrate anyone who so much as looks at 'Vati the wrong way!"

"That's true." Harry agreed. "What about her sister? They're twins after all."

Ron snorted. "Ernie called dibs on her way back in first year. It's guy code; nobody can touch her until he's either dead or married."

"Guy code is weird." Harry mumbled before going to sleep.

The next morning, Harry woke up to Ron screaming. He scrambled to find his glasses and wand, only to find that he was groping empty air. Then, without his doing, his glasses were before his eyes and he could see, very clearly, Albus Dumbledore towering above him.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. "Sir? What are you doing here?"

Dumbledore smiled with a faraway look in his eyes. "My mother always told me that if you roll your eyes too often that they would fall out. Wouldn't it be a terribly horrid occurrence to lose your only means of sight, Harry?"

Harry just looked at the headmaster for a few seconds without saying anything, finally he said. "Yes sir."

With grace that only Dumbledore could meet, he glided around the subject at hand. "Of course, my boy. Anything to keep those lovely emerald eyes."

"Uhm..." Harry said uncomfortably. "Thank you, sir? Excuse my rudeness... However why are you standing over my bedside?"

"Oh, I can't blame you for being curious," Dumbledore sighed. "Severus has reported that you have something you wish to speak to me about. He would not say of what and you can imagine my confusion. Please, do tell me."

Harry grit his teeth. That snitch!

"Oh," Harry said through his gritted teeth. "I was going to come to you later today, sir... It's about my dreams." he lied, hoping the headmaster would believe him and Snape actually didn't tell him what he told him the night before. "You see... I had another the other night... It wasn't one of what Voldemort was doing... But I think it was a kind of... warning, maybe? It was a snake... Then I was the Snake... And the snake - me - killed my godfather, Sirius."

Harry felt bad for lying to the old man, but what else was he supposed to say?

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. "Oh, that is...tragic, sure enough. Symbolic, I do think. But I do feel as if there's something you aren't telling me. Pardon my nosy tendencies, if you would, but I have noticed that your body is near perfection." Harry's eyes widened and Dumbledore chuckled, then resting a hand on his small shoulder. "I did not mean it in that sort of way, Harry. But over the years, a person must acquire some sorts of scars. For example, I have a very faint line on my right thumb where I sliced myself with a cheese grater. My biggest would be a map on my leg, which I'm very sure I've spoken to you about before."

Harry shrugged. "I don't have any idea what you are talking about, sir. Now if you will excuse me... I must get ready for Potions... I must not be late again for Professor Snape will be very cross and give me detention..." Harry screwed up his face. "Again."

Dumbledore, seeming dejected, nodded. "Of course, Mr. Potter. I shall leave you and Mr. Weasley here to collect yourselves, and please, do make sure he comes out of shock fairly soon." And with that, the purple-robed man strolled out.

Harry groaned and got up, looking at Ron with a pointed look. "You okay mate? Get ready, we've missed breakfast."

Ron took three long, deep breaths and wordlessly rose to dress himself. Harry didn't mind - he'd rather Ron be silent and brooding than questioning and prying.

When both men were ready, they ran to the potions classroom and sat in their usual seats. Harry, at the front where as Ron was at the back. Harry looked the potions professor in the eye and glared knowingly at him before Hermione broke him out of his thought process.

"Harry?" Hermione said with a sigh, "How are you?"

"Fine, 'Mione." he replied.

The brown-eyed witch looked at him strangely and then proceeded to ramble on about Ron's seven levels of stupidity. It was almost funny how easy it was to ignore her.

Half way through the lesson, Harry noticed that Snape looked extra pissed at him, which confused him greatly. Why would he be pissed at him? Wasn't he the one who had snitched?

"Today we shall be making Veritaserum," said Snape loudly, and Harry could have sworn his gaze rested on Harry for a second too long. "I am assuming that you, as instructed at the beginning of class, read up on this potion. Now, who can tell me what Veritaserum is used for?"

As always Hermione shot her hand up, Snape however just stared at Harry. "Mr Potter?"

Harry sighed. "It makes people tell the truth."

Snape's lips curled in distaste. "Such vague wording, but yes, it makes people tell the truth. Miss. Granger, put your hand down, Potter has answered the question. Your limbs are no longer needed in the air. Now, Mr. Malfoy, if you would please tell us one of the seventeen ingredients we use in Veritaserum?"

"I don't know, sir." Draco said, glaring at Harry

"Well, well," said Snape softly. He blatantly ignored Hermione's hand flitting in front of his face as he called on Seamus Finnegan. Seamus gave him the ingredients and the students began the potion.

Harry and Hermione were oddly silent as they worked; only the occasional, "Could you hand me that, please?" interrupted their quiet state.

At the end of the fifty minutes, both students had two perfect potions.

As Harry was walking up to Snape's desk, someone stuck their leg out. He tried to reach out and grab hold of something, only succeeding in taking down two others with him. All three potion vials shattered and three types of blood were spilt: Malfoy's pure, Harry's half pure, and Hermione's of 'Muggle.'

"Ow!" Hermione cried glaring at Draco.

"It wasn't me," Draco hissed through clenched teeth. He tried to pick the glass out of his hand before Harry gripped Malfoy's wrist tightly and stopped his motion.

"Are you nuts?" He asked rolling his eyes. "You're going to get it infected!"

Draco rolled his eyes and looked up at his greasy-haired professor. "Can we go to Madam Pomfrey before I bleed to death?"

"So fucking dramatic," Harry complained forgetting that nape was right beside them.

"Potter!" Snape scolded then turned to the rest of the class. "Class dismissed, Mr Malfoy, Ms Granger go see Madam Pomfrey, Potter, stay."

Hermione tried to protest, ("He could die from blood loss!"), but Malfoy grabbed her not-bloody wrist and pulled her out of the classroom. Nobody said a word about the blush that painted both Malfoy and Granger's faces when they touched.

Harry ignored both of the students and the rest that were filling out and looked pointedly at Snape. "What?"

Snape ignored him with ease. "Class dismissed, I said! Slower than slugs, the lot of you!"

The rest of the kids in the classroom ran along leaving just Harry and Snape.

Harry stiffened as he came to this conclusion. Was the foul son of a bitch going to question him again? Maybe used Legilimency to pry the answer from his mind?

After a few minutes, Harry looked at him again, his mood getting fouler by each minute passing. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I can't blame you for being curious," said Snape with a sneer. Harry's eyes widened.

"The bloody hell were you doing in my room so early as to hear that?" he demanded. The last thing he needed was Snape and Dumbledore stalking him - or crushing on him, for that matter. "For the love of Merlin, Snape!" he continued, "what are you stalking me or something? You know what? I don't care, I'm going to be late for class. Please, just leave me the fuck alone."

Harry turned his back and made way to the door. He hasn't taken a single step before Snape gripped his arm tightly and spun him around.

"For once in your goddamned life, Potter, follow orders!" he snarled. "Sit down, let me heal your hand of your own stupidity, and listen."

Harry sighed but listened nonetheless. "Fine."

Snape wordlessly healed his hand and dropped the glass shards into a bowl. "The last thing I need is for another student to come crying to me when they cut their foot open," he explained.

Harry rolled his eyes but otherwise said nothing waiting for Snape to say what he wanted to say.

"You know, Potter," said Snape evenly, "I toyed with the idea of bringing you in here to wring the truth out. Maybe threaten you into it, scare the truth out."

"You and I both know I don't have a choice in the matter, Snape," Harry said tiredly. "I have to stay there because of the blood bond, so can you just pretend yesterday didn't happen and stop stalking me?"

Snape gave a cold bark of laughter. "If I were stalking you, boy, then you wouldn't know it." Harry felt chills down his spine.

"Fine," he said through his uneasiness. "Can I go now?"

"This would be a rather pointless conversation if I let you go now, wouldn't it?" said the older man sarcastically. "So no, just sit tight."

He began pacing the length between desks in front of Harry. "What do you know of my childhood, Mr. Potter? Or even that on your parents' lives?"

Harry looked at the professor with a confused expression. "I... I don't know much... I know my parents were Gryffindors and I have my mum's eyes... Why?"

"Well enough," Severus sniffed in distain. "As for me, I suppose you wouldn't know that I'm a half blood?"

"No," Harry said with a shake of his head.

Snape nodded. "Fair enough. My mother was a Pureblood disowned because she married my Muggle father. He seemed to think that if he hit the two of us hard enough that the magic would fly right out of us." His face pinched up in wry distaste. "It didn't work, obviously, but it wasn't from lack of effort on his behalf."

Harry stared at his professor, speechless. "Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked after a while. "I mean... You've never seemed to care before... We hated each other..."

"Look, kid," said Snape, clearly at his wit's end, "just because I hate you doesn't mean I don't care about you."

Harry snorted. "That's exactly what it means."

Snape rolled his eyes. "No it doesn't," he muttered.

"Then tell me, what do it mean, Snape?" Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He couldn't believe this guy!

Snape nearly growled in frustration. "This is the stupidest conversation I have ever had."

"Because you know I'm right," Harry said smugly.

"You're just as bad as your father," Snape muttered.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Harry glared at the potions professor waiting for him to answer his question and when he didn't he growled. "Well you're as bad as your mother."

Snape simply blinked. "If all you've got is 'mother jokes'...well, then you're nothing like your father, I suppose. At least he was original."

Harry smirked. "You're just mad that I'm right." Harry's smirk failed and was replaced by sorrow. "Can I go now?"

"No, Potter," said Snape through gritted teeth. "Tell me who it is. All I need is a simple name and you are free to frolic around the castle with Granger and Weasley once again."

Harry sighed. "Everyone." Tears prickled his eyes which he unsuccessfully tried to fight. "It wasn't really bad at first... I would sleep under the stairs and make them breakfast... Or clean... But then my uncle snapped.., I was eight."

Snape, to Harry's surprise, didn't say anything. The old man sat back and let him talk - he wished everyone would do that instead of bombarding him with sympathy and questions.

"He..." Harry sighed. "He used to not be so horrible... But last summer... He... Almost killed me."

"I can see that," said Snaps softly. "Was it that cousin of yours...the large one, pig-like, obnoxious name...Duddiekins, was it?"

Harry cracked a smile at that. "Dudley," he corrected. "But no, it was my uncle... Dudley never does anything unless he's with his friends... Then he says that he's sorry afterwards.. I don't know..."

Snape's eyes hardened. "Didn't you save him from Dementors or something this past summer vacation? He should be groveling at your feet, boy! Muggles, can't do anything with them."

"Yeah..." Harry said with a shiver. "That's when Uncle Vernon tried to..."

"Beat the magic out of you?" Snape suggested. Harry looked downward. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, boy. If anything, that makes you braver, to have survived all that. My own father did the same thing to me, which you already know, so from one victim to another, tell me how he tried to kill you and exactly how close he got."

"When we got back.. Dudley was out of it... I didn't even see it coming... He took a... Broom I think..."

"Are you trying to tell me that your idiot cousin got himself doped up and tried to get on a broom?" Snape demanded sharply.

Harry laughed at this, which quickly turned into a sob. "No. The dementors did something with him. And my Uncle was furious... He got a broom and started chasing me... I ran to my room, but it was locked and before I could unlock it I heard the broom crack against my back and I fell."

"Beaten with a broomstick by a wizard-hating Muggle?" Snape summarized. Harry nodded; goosebumps littered his back where the splinters, the scrapes, and the fresh scars were. "That's ironic in a very sadistic way. Insane. Did he get punished, thrown in jail, anything?"

Harry shook his head. "No one knows."

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed an absent hand over his tired appearance. "Professor," Harry started hesitantly, "I don't mean to pry, but did you sleep at all last night?"

"No Mr Potter, I did not." Snape replied with a sigh.

"Why not sir?" Harry asked with a scrunched brow.

"How could I?" he replied sharply. "Honestly, child, how could I sleep while knowing there was a child in the castle experiencing a childhood as bad as mine?"

"I thought you hated me," Harry said simply. "Because I look like my father."

"Just because I find your appearance absolutely appalling..." Snape trailed off. "Well, never mind. I would never wish abide on any child, Potter spawn or not."

Harry shook his head. "Can I go now?"

"Salazar's bones, child!" Snape moaned. "Why do you insist on asking that godforsaken question every time I try to be of comfort? Must be a bad omen, so yes, go."

Harry smirked but then his face fell. "you're not going to tell Professor Dumbledore, are you?"

Snape took a spare second to think. What would he have done if this had happened to him?

"No," he said finally. "But you have three options. One, you come and live with me. Two, you live at Grimmauld Place with that terrible screeching thing that goes by the name of Mrs. Black. Three, we tell Dumbledore and it is in his hands your fate."

Harry just looked at him completely shocked. "You mean to say I have a choice of living with that painting... Or you..." Harry paused. "You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious, Mr Potter." Snape said not missing a beat.

"But you hated me for five years, made my life a living hell!" Harry exclaimed. "I bet you want me to live with you as much as I want to go live with the painting!"

Snape sighed. "That's where your wrong, child." Severus paused for a second and then ran a hand through his greasy hair. "Just give me a second chance and I'll make sure you get the childhood you deserve."

Harry snorted. "I deserve nothing."

Snape snapped his fingers. "And why would that be, huh? What's that Dursley man filled your head with over the years, hmm? Filth, unnatural, follower of Satan? Oh, that last one was my father's favorite insult."

Was he trying to guilt him into choice uno? Yes, yes be was."

"I'm the reason my parents where killed," Harry mumbled, not looking at Snape.

"Then you'd better make damn sure their deaths weren't in vain, you got it?" Snape said crisply. "They died to protect you and I'm not going to let The Boy Who Lived To Be A Pain In My Arse - and I say that as affectionately as I can - go back to the hellhole of abuse."

Harry Grinned. "Okay."

Severus' face seemed void of belief. "Okay to what, Harry?"

"I'll give you another chance," Harry said, shrugging.

Severus ignored the blossoming feeling in his chest. "Alright."

"Can I go now?" Harry said with a grin knowing that it would piss the potions professor off.

"For the love of god, go!" Snape commanded, smiling internally as the young boy scampered out if his classroom. Maybe life would be just a little easier now.

_Written For; Camp Potter; Scavenger Hunt Week Three. _


End file.
